


The notes we know but do not acknowledge

by jello12451



Series: MCYT Music Conservatory AU [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Gen, Like actual cannons in music, Music, Music Conservatory AU, cannons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:08:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29611962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jello12451/pseuds/jello12451
Summary: "Music is the silence between the notes."- Claude Debussy.OR: A series of oneshots for Symphonies of Friends and Sonatas of Rivals.
Relationships: Platonic Friendship between literally everyone
Series: MCYT Music Conservatory AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2001253
Comments: 34
Kudos: 68





	The notes we know but do not acknowledge

**Author's Note:**

> Ay okay so this definitely has spoilers for SoF&SoR, soooooooo you should probably read that before you read this one. It's in the same series.
> 
> And~ yeah. These will definitely not be inter-connected, and I'll just update this on a whim when I want to, lol- so yeah. Have fun?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CANNONS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1812 overture with cannons: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbxgYlcNxE8  
> [first 5 cannon shots start from 12:05, the last 11 start from 14:10. I know you want to hear them. -.-]
> 
> Sheet music: https://ks4.imslp.info/files/imglnks/usimg/a/ae/IMSLP23744-PMLP03587-Tchaikovsky_-_1812_Overture_(orch._score).pdf  
> [pages 56 and 67, if you were wondering.]

“This is a terrible idea.” Dream eyed the pieces of artillery that were slowly being wheeled on the stage. “This is a terrible, terrible idea. This is a terrible idea.”

“We heard you the first time, Dream.” Ant said offhandedly, though he would be lying if he wasn’t feeling worried, either. Because this was a cannon- an actual, real-life canon. A very expensive piece of artillery that was designed to fire cannonballs and set things on fire, which will be used in close proximity with dozens of very flammable and expensive _wood_ instruments.

And they have _twenty-one_ of them.

“Relax.” Bad attempted to soothe their nerves, though they knew that the elder was worried, as well. “It’ll be fine. We’re in an outdoor venue! Nothing will catch on fire.”

“Are you… sure about that.” Dream’s eyes shifted over to the local arsonist, who was staring at the cannons with _way_ too much interest for Dream’s liking. 

Bad faltered.

Yeah.

This was not a good idea.

~

“Remind me _why exactly._ ” Technoblade deadpanned. “Did we agree to use actual cannons instead of being _sensible_ and using the timpani instead? And why we agreed to have _Harvey_ , out of _all the people_ , manage one of the cannons? And why we let Sapnap get anywhere _close_ to the cannons?”

“Because we’re in an outdoor venue and we wanted the next year's freshmen to be excited, because Harvey is the only person we can spare and we actually have an excess of brass players this time, and because we couldn’t stop Sapnap. Anything else?” Phil answered with cheer, looking over the situation.

 _You look way too cheerful given that this may end in a bonfire._ Wilbur signed, face unreadable. Beside him, Niki was trying to hold in her laughter, although she wasn’t all that successful.

“Relax, Wilbur.” Phil waved off the concerns. “It’ll be fine. If Sapnap gets too trigger happy, George can always deck him.”

“Oh, the violins-” Techno groaned. “Oh, all the violins. All the cellos. The poor bassists, who won’t be able to escape in time with their instruments. Oh, oh no, I can hear the instruments burn, screaming, collapsing-”

Phil wheezed, which earned him another playful punch from Techno. “I- oh my god-”

Wilbur had a grin on his face as well, and Niki didn’t even try to hide her laughter anymore. Around the area, other instrumentalists briefly turned their heads to the group of four, though none of them really questioned it. 

Nothing to question, after all.

~

“Oh. A cannon. Holy fuck.”

“Language!”

“But Bad-” Harvey protested. “A cannon! An actual cannon that could probably set the school on fire if I aimed the wrong way and put too much gunpowder in. An actual, real cannon!”

“Did you forget _everything_ the instructors told you?” Ant asked, exasperated. “And don’t forget that professionals _will be on scene_ to supervise you. Don’t pull a Sapnap.”

“Yeah, I know, I know.” Harvey rubbed his hands together in excitement. “But a cannon!”

Ant and Bad exchanged A Look™. 

The conductor called them over. 

Simultaneously, six instrumentalists exchanged worried looks, two musicians’ faces lit up with excitement, one looked on in mild amusement, and one sighed and plopped down in his seat.

This was going to be a long, _long_ soundcheck.

~

It starts off surprisingly fine.

The strings are calm, and their legato notes are like a blanket over the orchestra. It’s two viola and four cellos for a considerable amount of time, George and Bad melding their melodic lines together easily with practice. The quotation of “God save the Tsar” is well played, and the six string players give way to the woodwinds easily.

Flutes, oboes, clarinets, bassoons. Three of those are in their group, too. George and Bad continue as they’re joined by Niki, Wilbur and Phil.

Everything is calm.

But, well.

It’s _Tchaikovsky._

There is crescendo, and diminuendo. The instruments get louder, then softer, then louder again. And then Technoblade, Dream and Sapnap lead the violin sections into an increasingly louder arpeggio, which culminates in a G minor chord and an oboe solo. 

The violins and violas are stuck playing sixteenth notes for a long time. 

Triplets, for Ant and Bad’s sections. 

The violins and violas continue their repeated sixteenths as the cellos and basses take the melody for themselves, several times. 

There is no audience, but the orchestra is just as full of music as they would usually be.

And the assistant conductor cuts them off. In the middle of the audience chairs, the professor calls out instructions. 

“Move to Poco Piu Mosso.”

It’s to be expected. In a soundcheck, rarely will an orchestra ever play the full piece- and their allotted time for soundcheck is but ten minutes. Not even enough to run through the 17-minute overture _once._

There are places the orchestra must pick and choose, to ensure that they’re getting the effect that they want. _Especially_ for a piece like the 1812.

Techno shoots Phil a worried glance as time moves on and they get closer and closer to the inevitable climax that Harvey and Sapnap have been waiting desperately for.

It seems like they’re sorely disappointed when the professor waves them over to the final fanfare, and the ending- not the parts with the cannons. That goes off without a hitch, though the disappointment on Harvey’s face is immeasurable.

Techno frowns. When the assistant conductor cuts them off again, and the professor flips through the books, searching for other parts, he leans into the music sheet under the guise of marking last-minute fingering and whispers to his stand partner.

“Shouldn’t they check the cannons?”

Dream’s face pales dramatically. “Please, don’t remind them.”

“I mean.” Techno says dryly. “I’d rather set the stage on fire when it’s not filled with unsuspecting orphans.”

“Christ-”

“We will start eight bars before the cannon shots.” The assistant conductor suddenly cuts in, and the orchestra as a _whole_ flips the pages, having long since marked the bars where the cannon shots would be.

Harvey jumps up from his seat. “Brace yourselves!” He can’t help but cheekily call out, to which Ant rolls his eyes.

Of course, _nothing_ goes to plan.

It goes like this:

Two bars before his first entrance, Harvey loses track of what bar he’s at, and he panic fires a shot at some point. 

The conductor looks up but keeps going, hoping that Harvey can get back on track. The next four shots go out okay, though the smell of gunpowder is now in the air.

And then there’s bars and bars of rest, except Harvey _loses count again_ and fires off-beat, throwing the _entire_ orchestra off, and the next eleven shots that follow are somewhere between hilariously inaccurate and terrifying. The other fifteen people managing the cannons are looking at Harvey with wide eyes, who’s running on something between pure adrenaline and terror.

Aaaaaaaaaand…

“HOLY- THE GRASS IS ON FIRE!”

Immediately, all forty instrumentalists snap to attention. Once they spot the tiny flame, flickering, just barely anything of consequence- the _entire_ string section jumps away and takes their instrument in their hands, running away. 

Technoblade included.

He’s not ashamed to say it.

The rest of the orchestra is a mess of escaping, stomping out the fire and yelling at the people operating the cannons, who scramble to get those buckets of water they were _supposed_ to have on hand. 

And in the background, the brass continue to play, paying no attention to the chaos that has erupted. The assistant conductor has a kind of hysterical smile on his face as he continues the motions, and the brass keep on blowing. 

“HARVEY, WHAT DID YOU DO??”

“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING! WHY DOES EVERYONE IMMEDIATELY ASSUME IT’S ME?”

“YOU’RE THE MOST CHAOTIC OUT OF US!”

R and Eci, leaders of the trumpet and french horn sections respectively, raise eyebrows at each other before continuing. Maybe a little bit out of spite. The _one_ time the brass sections have the spotlight, the school is on fire.

“JESUS CHRIST- SAPNAP??? PUT THE LIGHTER DOWN- WHERE DID YOU GET IT?”

“PUT YOUR VIOLINS AWAY, I DO NOT CONDONE BURNING OF INSTRUMENTS, DESPITE BEING AN ARSONIST- HOLY FUCK, GEORGE, YOUR VIOLA!”

“WHAT THE-”

Wilbur looks up, mildly confused. The world is silent to him, no matter how loud it is to everyone else. The conductor is still conducting, but Niki is no longer in her seat- actually, half the orchestra is no longer in their seat. 

He turns with a questioning tilt of his head to the oboist beside him. Taye grins, makes vague motions of explosions, and points him over to the flame, which has _barely_ charred any grass. She then makes a shrugging motion and continues to play along with the brass.

Wilbur _stares._

“OH GOD, ANT- WHERE’S YOUR BASS?”

“SAFE, DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME- OH GOD, GET AWAY!”

“Hey, mate, no need to worry, it’s barely a spark now-”

“IT’S A LITERAL FIRE!”

Blue stares, wide-eyed, at the group that has gathered around the cannons, clutching her violin to their chest. Behind her, Aria taps her shoulder, and she shrieks a little before seeing who it is.

“Did you set the grass on fire?” Blue hisses.

Aria puts her hands up in surrender. “Hey, that was all Sapnap. Not me. Despite my tendencies…”

“Aria… _no._ Aria-!”

“DON’T SPREAD THE FIRE!”

“JESUS- SAPNAP, NO!”

~

“Hey, Tommy, why do you think the grass looks charred, over there?”

“I dunno. Fire, lately?”

“Wouldn’t that burn the instruments?”

“I don’t know, big man. Don’t ask me.”

“...wait. They’re playing the 1812 overture, are they not?”

“...”

“...”

“...oh god.”

~

If Sapnap gets a bruise on his shoulder, that’s no one’s tale to tell but himself and George.

If Harvey actually pays attention while counting, that’s no one’s to tell but himself, as well.

And if Technoblade secretly reveled in the chaos that happened while he stood off to one side, surveying the chaos while casually plucking strings in guitar position-

Well. You know the drill. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cameo'd people are:  
> alwaysananxiousmess as R  
> Ecinue as Eci  
> taye_z as Taye  
> BlueQuills as Blue  
> Aria_Cinabun as Aria.  
> :)  
> They're all really cool, you should check them out :))

**Author's Note:**

> Plugs yes:  
> Join my discord server: https://discord.gg/HwbkW8jqrf  
> My YT channel (I post songs): https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCQHHEpmzIrOYyxX659-3tfA


End file.
